


The Black Widow

by auchterlonie



Series: Ultores Coeunt [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers AU - Ancient Rome, F/M, Falling In Love, Learning to trust, Mention of childhood sexual abuse, Triggers, Understanding, fighting the monsters inside, finding a true partner, not having to fight alone, possible trigger warning, some sexual content, voices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 06:38:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3109811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auchterlonie/pseuds/auchterlonie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nat had forgotten how easy it was to lose herself. It was understandable, of course, because Bruce made everything easy, but it was also dangerous. A night of passion is almost turned into a terrible nightmare as the Black Widow is unleashed and Nat is forced to confront her monster...</p><p>possibly can be read as a standalone if you accept the AU premise and that Nat/Bruce developed their relationship in the previous story.</p><p>Possible trigger for childhood sexual abuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Black Widow

**Author's Note:**

> There is mention of past childhood sexual abuse in this and it may present a possible trigger. I offer a warning.  
> Thank you to epeeblade for looking this over. All errors are of course my fault alone.  
> This is just a short connector story in the series.

Natasha had forgotten how easy it was to lose herself.

Bruce had come home late from the workshops and there had been something about the smell of him - a combination of sweat, dirt, and ore that she found inexplicably alluring. It was somehow so masculine and intoxicating...

She'd sent him to start dinner while she mixed the wine, but it wasn't long before she had him pinned on the bed beneath her, calling her name. She liked it when they called her name.

She rode him with a fervor that would give some men heart attacks and smiled a wolfish smile as she stared down at his helpless, fragile body. She'd opted against restraints for him even though Bruce was... special. She didn't need them; she was too well trained to get anything but complete subservience from him as it was. He would obey her commands, he would react to her touch exactly as she wished, he would call her name louder and louder, and he would enjoy himself right up until the end.

When she would plunge a knife into his chest.

Nat smiled at the thought of how easy it was to end a man's life. How someone as small as she could bring down the most powerful of men not with physical strength, but with desire - something she had learned was far more deadly.

She'd been a child when she'd watched a man die from a spider's bite. Though he knew he was spreading the poison, he'd kept scratching at the itch anyway, as if he just couldn't help himself. That single moment had taught her everything she'd needed to know about men - that they would scratch any itch if their body called for it. Even if it killed them.

And so Nat had learned to give them an itch they wanted to scratch.

The men she took home enjoyed their final moments, calling her name right up until the instant when she ended them and they called no more. Bruce would be no different. He'd scratch her itch like any other man...

Nat leaned down and kissed a gentle line up his chest until she found his lips; tiny little bites to draw him further into her web. She even giggled just a little as she reached up and behind him to the knife she kept sheathed beneath their pillow. She would let him call her name one more time before she ended him.

But then his strong arms found a way to roll her and as he repositioned himself, he paused and kissed a gentle line of his own, running from her neck down to the tiny pendant resting between her breasts. Reaching up to touch it, he wiped droplets of sweat away before catching her eyes and smiling.

"Natalia..." he whispered quietly as if her name was a precious thing - a lover's secret that he relished keeping.

His lips found hers as he began a new rhythm, one which made the tiny pendant slide away and fall behind her neck. Its tiny points pressed against her skin with each thrust - just enough of a sensation to call her mind away from where she was to where she had been just a few months earlier.

Bruce had wrapped her hands around the pendant then and told her something she hadn't expected him or any man to ever say. It was a moment as intimate as she had even known or allowed and it stood out in her memory like a torch in the darkness.

He had seen her in that moment; not the Black Widow, not Shield Agent Romanov, not any of her aliases, but _her_. And he'd liked what he saw.

_Natalia..._

Nat's mind snapped back to the present, to the touch and smell of him...and she realized what had nearly just happened.

Ever so slowly, Nat released her grip from the knife handle and instead, reached up to lose her fingers in his tangled curls. His eyes caught hers in that moment and Nat could see a brief hesitation, as if he was just beginning to register that something was wrong.

Which was something she couldn't allow him to do.

With a firm hand, she pulled him into a kiss, both to reassure and to prevent him seeing her face as she struggled to contain her fear and regret. She convinced herself that the tear escaping from the corner of her eye could be dismissed as sweat, the reddening of her cheeks as exertion; he'd never need know that she'd nearly taken his life.

Slowly, she regained control of herself and by the time he finished, she had the mask of a guilt-free lover firmly in place. She let him hold her and kissed him sweetly after he whispered quiet promises in her ear. Then she soothed him down to sleep as she'd been trained to do to other men and listened closely until his heart settled into a slow, quiet rhythm. Only then did she allow herself to move.

She'd lost herself tonight.

It was easy enough to do with Bruce because he made _everything_ easy. Nat had been shedding aliases to him for months - removing those protections and controls that she'd always kept in place, doing it willingly, even. But that had been like playing with fire and tonight she'd been burned by it. She'd lost the most important of her controls and unleashed the Black Widow.

She hadn't even registered the change.

Slipping quietly from bed, Nat found her clothes and then stepped out into the darkness. It had been the smell of him, she recognized now. Something as subtle as a smell and her monster had nearly taken everything. Just the thought of it made her sick to her stomach.

She'd be damned if she'd allow that to happen again. Picking an unlit torch from the ground, she set off across the fields toward Tony's workshops. She needed to confront her monster...

For five months, she and Bruce had been living on Tony's land and in that time, Nat had devoted herself to learning Bruce's triggers. There was nothing subtle about 'the other guy's' arrival, but at least it was predictable and Nat had quickly learned to delay or even prevent it. Together, she and the team had made plans for it and offered Bruce the kind of support that made him feel safe which, in return, allowed them to live basically normal lives free from worry.

But in the meantime, Nat had forgotten to worry about her own monster.

Unlike the other guy, Nat's monster _was_ subtle; that was her power. She wore Nat's skin. She spoke like her, laughed like her, killed with her hands... and no one ever saw her coming, not even Nat. She was as subtle as the spider she was named for and every bit as deadly.

And her triggers were harder to recognize. Nat didn't even know them all, she only knew how to deal with them...

The smell of the ore was heavy on the wind as Nat approached the workshops and it made her stomach churn for a different reason. Bruce had discovered it in the hills and brought it home for Tony to mix in his metals. The new materials they created were harder and lighter than any metals they'd ever seen and Bruce was ecstatic to once again be valued for his mind. That, too, helped keep the other guy at bay and Nat had been glad for it.

But Nat could recognize the ore for what it was, now, and remembered where she'd first encountered it: the Cella Rubrum, the Red Room...

Nat had never been a child, not really, but what little childhood she'd been allowed to have had been brought to swift conclusion in that Borysthene cave. She'd been delivered to the priestesses there and trained to satisfy men. The memories of those rituals were scarred into her brain; how they would bathe her while chanting and then light fires for her to burn powdered ores, the smoke of which would make her compliant and open to suggestion.

And then she would be brought before men so they could find pleasure in her pain.

But sometimes, after the worst of it and while lying alone in her cell, Nat thought she could hear a voice that lingered among the smoke. It whispered quietly to her, kept her company, and in time, taught her to hurt those who hurt her. She notched tiny marks in her cell wall at night and learned to love the voice while everyone else learned to fear it. She named it the Black Widow and did whatever it asked. No one ever hurt her again.

But that had been a long time ago and a world away. Coulson had saved her from that life - taught her there was another kind of life to be had at all. He had given her a team and helped her remember she had a voice of her own.

And then Bruce had given her something even more powerful.

Love was for children and Nat had never been a child, but what Bruce offered her was as close to love as she was ever likely to find. It was precious to her and she'd nearly lost it this night because of a smell and a memory of a life she'd never valued.

It was something Coulson didn't understand and never would. Bruce had his reasons for living so far from other people and so did Nat. She couldn't shed the Black Widow anymore than Bruce could shed the other guy; she was a part of her now. The best Nat could do was trap her deep inside and pretend she could no longer hear her voice crying out to be released.

But as the ore tonight proved, traps could be broken, monsters could escape, and _they_ could still hurt her.

And so Nat lit her torch as she approached the entrance to Tony's workshop. It was no more the Cella Rubrum than Bruce was a priestess - she _knew_ that - but even still, Nat once again felt like that young girl as she peered into the musty darkness.

Her hands drifted up to touch her pendant and after a moment, she'd collected herself enough to light the furnace and burn the remaining bags of ore. Smoke filled the shop within moments and Nat breathed it in deeply, letting it fill her lungs until they burned and she fell to her knees.

The voice was as quiet and light as she remembered. It laughed softly at her, like a parent amused by a child.

"I don't need you, anymore," Nat said to it.

_Of course you do, now more than ever..._

Nat shook her head. "I'm not ungrateful. You taught me to survive, but..."

_He will hurt you, you know._

"No he won't."

_He already has..._

"Stop it."

The voice laughed as she said it. _Tell me_... _Who was it he fucked tonight? You or me?_

"That's not fair..."

_Do you think he even noticed you weren't there? Do you think he would have cared if he did?_

"Bruce is different."

_No man is different, you know this to be true. My gods, has he already taken so much from you? Has he broken your will?_

"Of course not," Nat said quietly.

_He has... like any other man, he takes what he wants from you. He will have his fill and be done with it..._

Nat shook her head against the words, but said nothing. She had needed the Black Widow as a child and had learned to trust her counsel. The Black Widow had been everything to her and had taught her to do the terrible things that kept her alive.

That Nat still did terrible things was not lost on her, but she did those things now to protect the ones who needed _her_. It was more than just redemption that drove her, it was a fight to define who she was now and who she wanted to be.

And Bruce was a major part of that. She'd come to trust him, believe in him, and if it turned out he was no different than the others... then what would that make her? Nat closed her eyes and felt her body start to sag.

The voice laughed again. _Don't worry, Natalia. I will protect you as I have always protected you. He will pay for what he has taken..._

Something shifted in Nat's mind as she registered the words. What had Bruce ever taken from her?

No one took things from Natalia Romanova, least of all Bruce. No, he _gave_ her things, things that made her move further and further away from the Black Widow. It was what made him a threat and that was why the Black Widow was trying to destroy him now, first with a knife and then with doubts meant to fester in Nat's mind until she destroyed him herself.

Nat even smiled as she recognized the first lesson she'd ever been taught - that the subtlest weapons were always the most destructive. They hinged on desire - on what you most wanted to see - and Nat no longer wanted to see the darkness in people. She _wanted_ to believe in Bruce and that in the end, he would prove her trust was not misplaced.

And so Nat chose him over the Black Widow.

"I will protect him from you," Nat said with an icy chill that made the voice laugh.

_You can't even protect yourself..._

"No, I don't need you anymore."

 _You will always need me. You think I'm some thing you can bury and forget, but we both know better. I'm_ _more you than you are, Natalia, and always have been. You can't change that..._

"I'll find a way."

The voice laughed again as it swirled around her and began to drift away. _You can't even find your way out of this room..._

Nat looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time in ages. She had no idea how much time had passed or when exactly she had fallen prone to the dirt floor, but the ache in her chest was paralyzing and she struggled to get to her feet. The fire had burned hot enough to crack the crucible and flames had spread to the wooden frames and supports. As they reached the roof, it started to collapse down upon her and she scrambled back to the far wall. A loud crack split the air as the support beams gave way and brought debris tumbling down to block the entrance.

The fires had grown too intensely, too quickly and Nat couldn't see a way out. The stone walls were too thick to break through and there was no way to climb for the roof - every piece of equipment inside was on fire. She backed into the corner and tried to calm her mind as she peered into the smokey darkness. There just _had_ to be a way...

_Of course there is. Smoke always finds a way to rise..._

The chimneys...

Her head swimming from the smoke, Nat pushed forward against the flames and found one of Tony's hammers. It burned her skin as she gripped it, but she pressed on, pounding drunkenly at the hollow-tiled ventilation shaft and when the hole was large enough, escaped into the night with the rest of the smoke.

 _I will always be with you, Natalia, because you will_ always _need me. We both know that..._

"I'm not afraid of you," Nat barely managed to cough out as she struggled to get air back into her lungs.

 _Of course not..._ the voice mocked distantly.

Nat made it as far as the fields before she threw up.

***

The stars above seemed cold and still, like they just didn't have the energy to continue twinkling. Nat watched them rise from the field, where she lay prone and hidden among the grain. It wasn't like her to hide, but she didn't feel much like herself tonight. If she did, she'd have gone to help when the alarm calls were raised; would have pretended to be shocked at the intensity of the flames and then worked with the servants to put them out.

But instead, she'd simply stayed in the field and watched the shop burn.

The advantage of living on the edge of Tony's land was that her absence wouldn't be suspicious. News needed time to travel and so, she'd make her excuses in the morning, do her pretending then. For now, she'd watch the stars and let her mind drift until she felt human again.

Quiet movement among the grain caught her attention before long as someone made their careful way towards her. Bruce, no doubt. He'd proven on their first meeting that he could find her no matter how well hidden she thought she was.

"Natasha..." he said quietly from still a few feet away. He was respectfully using her public alias in case they weren't alone, but it sounded harsh to her ears, like a lie. She said nothing in return, but he approached anyway. "I smelled the smoke and you were gone," he pressed gently. "What happened?"

"Please don't ask me to explain," she answered quietly.

"I don't..." he started to reply, but then stopped himself and instead, moved to lay next to her. She waited for him to ask anyway, but he never did; he simply stayed next to her and quietly watched the stars continue their rise.

Eventually, she stopped worrying about what he'd do or say and let her mind drift back to the stars. The Hydra constellation was snaking its way up from the horizon and she stared at it, wondering if she would ever find a rock large enough to pin the Black Widow the way Hercules had pinned his beast; wondering how she would ever keep Bruce safe.

Bruce must have noticed where she was focused because he rolled his head to look at the same stars. "Do you know the tale of the Hercules and the Hydra?"

"Everyone knows it," Nat answered. Even Nat did and she'd grown up in a cave.

"Hmm..." he agreed, nodding. "He was not a nice man, Hercules. He murdered his own children."

"He was made to," Nat added and he nodded again, agreeing with her.

"And he was given a chance at redemption because of it. Which was incredibly lucky, if you think about it. I mean, how many people get a chance like that?"

Nat heard the rustle of grass as he turned to look at her, but she couldn't yet bring herself to look back. He was trying to be cute and it might have charming if she had been in a better mood.

"It wasn't easy and each trial nearly killed him," Bruce continued. "But he pressed on, trial after trial. Some say that's why we have the constellation - to remind us of how important it is to fight for forgiveness."

Nat didn't need a lecture on forgiveness and tuned to tell him so, but he turned back to look up at the stars.

"But I think that's too simplistic," he pressed on. "I think - and I'll admit that I've only reached this conclusion in the last few months - that the Hydra reminds us of something far more important."

"Which is?" Nat asked after a moment, when it became clear he wouldn't continue unless she did so.

"That Hercules almost lost that fight," Bruce explained. " _Would_ have lost it if Iolaus hadn't stepped in to help. Every time Hercules cut off a head, Iolaus burned the stump so no more could emerge. Without him, Hercules would have lost and we'd have remembered him as just one more monster who brought terrible pain into this world."

Bruce turned again to face her and Nat found herself staring into his calm, dark eyes.

"The constellation is there to remind us to never face our monsters alone, lest we be destroyed by them," Bruce told her with that serious tone she'd come to trust. "And by the way, tonight was a bit intense for me. I liked things how they were."

Nat felt a smile tugging at her lips, but stopped it in case he misinterpreted. "I won't let her hurt you," she whispered after a moment.

"I won't let her hurt you, either," he answered. "We'll fight her together."

She found his hand and held it before turning back to look at the stars. Together, they watched the Hydra complete its rise and Nat let herself smile.

The Black Widow didn't stand a chance...


End file.
